


Voyeuristic Intentions

by saint_troll



Category: Dudesons, Duudsonit
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drabble Collection, M/M, Prank Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-07
Updated: 2007-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:33:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saint_troll/pseuds/saint_troll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beauty is in the eye of the beholder…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voyeuristic Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Transferring work from my LiveJournal: [Troll St. Troll](http://trollsttroll.livejournal.com)

There’s hot wax searing his tongue; cooling before it even hits the back of his throat. And the pain must be so intense… I’m hard because of it. Yet, I can’t take my eye off of… him. His words buzz around in my skull.  _It looks like I came on your hand…_  Now there’s milky, white wax drying on his lips and chin and I can’t stop the thoughts running wild in my mind. How filthy and so fucking perfect it makes me feel imagining my own seed dripping off of his face. Would he do it… if the cameras were on? Just for the shock value? With me behind the lens looking down at his angular face as he bobbed up and then down; a laugh on his mouth each time his lips skimmed the mushroom tip before dipping enthusiastically back down. Would he do it if they weren’t?  
  
  
***  
  
  
There’s a sense of pride and ownership just knowing that what he’s doing… he’s doing just because of me; because I wrote it. Jarppi’s bouncing like an anxious puppy just waiting for the trap to… snap. And when it does Jukka is on his ass in seconds flat. The metal and wood still clasp around his balls like a vice. They’re as red and tight as his face as he laughs through the pain.  _Can I help you in any way?_  For once, Jarppi is as cute as fuck. Rather than taking him up on the offer, however, Jukka only laughs harder; his wrists pinched tight between his thighs as he tries to hide his reaction to the skit. But Jarppi sees it and so do I. Fading to black, I turn off the camera.  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
I’ve seen Jarppi in more compromising and quite truthfully disgusting positions that I’d ever care to admit. The last place I ever wanted to see him was with his arms around Jukka. The agony was written all over Jukka’s face as he gasped and wheezed for each breath. Even from across the yard, I can feel him shuddering under the burn… feel his heart racing when the first sign of blood hits the skin. There’s tears in his eyes and all Jarppi can do is taunt and tease. We all know what’s coming. As soon as we get him all lined up and the nurses and doctors cooing over him… he’ll do it. He’ll pull another runner.  
  
  
***  
  
  
It’s too far. We all know it… but that doesn’t stop us from dropping the match. It doesn’t stop me from gawking like a fool when Jarno stands and quickly strides towards the chainsaw hidden in the corner. The entire room is crashing down around him as he swings out angrily. They run… I don’t. He’s halfway through the door before he notices me standing there wide-eyed and half hard. I glance between the blade and his face waiting… just waiting for him to lash out. He doesn’t. Instead he grins insanely at me. His hand grasps mine. It’s covered in chainsaw oil and god knows what else… but I follow anyways. Their screams echo between the buildings of the farm. When Jarno tackles Jarppi, I grin and zoom the camera in on them knowing full well it was myself that dropped the match.


End file.
